Shadows of An Endless Night
by The Hraefn
Summary: Valen is defeated and all seems to be peaceful once more, yet the price of victory is steep indeed. Mint has not escaped the battle unscathed, her body wracked by the power of the Book. And every night Rue is troubled by dreams of darkness, of shadow...
1. Prologue: The Other Side of Victory

**Shadows of An Endless Night**

By C-chan 

  


_Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. Threads of Fate (Dewprism in Japan) and all its characters are the rightful property of Squaresoft and are used in this story without permission. Everything else that wasn't part of the game is all mine. All events portrayed bear no relation to actual incidents; any similarities are entirely coincidental._

  


**Foreword**

If there'd ever been a story to give an author headaches, this is it. As some people know, _Shadows of An Endless Night_ was intended to be the rewritten version of my previous fan-fiction, _Darkening Threads._ It went far beyond a simple rewrite, however. Like most stories, this one had a life of its own. What had actually happened was a total makeover concerning the plot, setting, character developments, etc. In short, SAEN became a whole new story, one based on the original concept behind _Darkening Threads._ But it was a tricky story to write. Ideas were discarded almost as fast as they were thought up, and SAEN went through so many drafts that I had lost count. The current version is the one I eventually settled on, but even that is constantly being revised. So expect some roughness until the whole story is finally complete.

In regards to setting, _Shadows of An Endless Night_ is set a lot earlier than in _Darkening Threads_. _Darkening Threads_ was set five years after the events of the game, whereas SAEN is set during the final moments of the game, right after the fight with Valen. Since SAEN is technically a divergence story, the reader will notice that certain events in the story will differ from that of the game. The main difference will concern the respective storylines of the game. Instead of concentrating on just Mint's story or on Rue's, I've opted to combine the two together. The details of just how the two storylines mesh isn't important since most of the details of the _Threads of Fate_ story has little or no relation to this fan-fiction. The parts that _do_ matter will hopefully become obvious throughout the course of this story.

  


**Announcements**

(_Important announcements will only be found on this page, so please pay attention to this.)_

Updates: 1/10/04 — Added new prologue (incomplete); added more text to old prologue and changed it to chapter one of Book One (still incomplete)

Wanted: Looking for a pre-reader for SAEN. Must have good command of English and expansive knowledge about ToF. I'm trying to contact my old pre-reader, but I need around two more at the least. If you're interested or want more details, please email me at the_lynx2001@yahoo.com.

  
  


**Prologue - The Other Side of Victory**

  
  


Pain filled him, pain greater than any he had felt before. Rue let out an involuntary gasp as the bright light washed over him, continuing its relentless torture. It seemed to last an age when suddenly the light and pain ceased. Rue gasped again, this time in relief as he stood on unsteady legs. That last attack had almost had him. _Careless,_ he cursed himself. Fortunate for him that Valen seemed more intent on making him suffer first than on outright murder. 

_Now there's a cheery thought,_ Rue thought to himself grimly. _I can't afford any more mistakes like the last one. Next time, I might not be so lucky._ He warily began circling the beast that had been the Aeon, Valen, the heavy blade of the Arc Edge held high, staying as close to the edge of the platform as he dared. The platform seemed to be the only solid thing in this strange new universe conjured up from Valen's diseased mind. Rue did not know what would happen were he to fall over the edge. Fall forever, perhaps. He shuddered at the thought. His hat had long since fallen over the edge into the abyss in the course of their battle, but fond as he was of the thing, he had no intention of joining it. 

"Fool!" boomed the voice of the transformed Aeon, the sound of it echoing from all around the rainbow-colored dreamscape. "You still seek to defy Me? I, your creator, who made you who you are today? Know your place, foolish doll! Bow before Me, you Maker! Bow before your God!" 

"You are not my god!" Rue shouted. "You may have created me, Valen, but you don't command me. Not anymore! I am free of you, free by my own will. It is because of my will that I am here — to stop you and your madness before you destroy the world and everything that I love!" 

"_Your_ will?" Valen laughed. "You delude yourself, my son. It is _My_ will that you are here, and it is _My_ will that will decide whether you live or die. Your brother Ruecian betrayed Me and got death. You, on the other hand, you will be honored beyond all others. The whole world shall be cleansed in the light of My Dewprism, to be reborn as a new world created in _My_ image. And it is you, Rue, who will be the first to experience it!" 

"I'd rather not, thanks," the young man answered dryly, still warily circling the Aeon. "My version of an ideal world doesn't have you in it." 

"Insolent pup! Death is too good for you!" The multi-faceted eyes of the giant insect-like creature that was Valen flashed in rage, and he surged forward, a multitude of clawed legs striking out at the silver-haired young man. But Rue was not there when the claws struck, spinning nimbly aside to avoid the attack and launching a counterattack of his own at the creature's unprotected belly. Valen screamed more in rage than in pain and lashed out wildly. Rue leaped back to safety out of range of those flailing limbs. But he was tired, tired from his battles through Valen's fortress, tired and wounded from his final battle with the Arm of Death, Doll Master's — no, Ruecian's — more powerful form. Because of that his reflexes were slowed and one claw-tipped limb scored a path across his chest. 

Rue cried out and staggered from the pain, almost dropping the Arc Edge as he clutched a hand to his chest. The hand came away wet. _A shallow cut,_ he thought in relief as he inspected the damage. The armor had prevented the cut from digging deeper. Yet it was one more wound among the many he had received since entering Valen's fortress. Sonner or later they would wear him out. _I have to end this soon._

Preparing to give everything he had for a final, all-out attack, Rue suddenly stopped in his tracks and his eyes widened in horror as he saw Valen's massive bulk begin to shift and change, its form altering. The lengthy gash he had laid open along the creature's side was closing. _He can heal himself,_ Rue realized with dismay. _Any damage I manage to inflict is gone the next time he changes shape!_

Valen now resembled nothing so much as an alien bird of prey, all straight lines and hard angles. Rue had only a second to study Valen's new form for in the next instant the enraged Aeon was upon him, diving down at him with a speed belied by his size. Rue barely managed to get his weapon up in time to deflect the creature's deadly talons. The force of the blow sent him tumbling but the young man rolled with the attack, coming up smoothly in a half-crouch, the blade of the Arc Edge whistling overhead as he slashed at the bird-creature. His weapon met nothing but air. 

_So fast..._ The creature was already angling in for another attack, and Rue prepared himself. Several times Valen struck, but each time the silver-haired youth was nowhere near those grasping claws. Knowing by now not to take the full force of the blow, Rue instead angled his blade in defense, Valen's talons glancing off the Arc Edge's indestructible surface. _This isn't good,_ he thought. _He's so fast that all I can do is defend. I have no time to launch a counterattack. At this rate I'll be worn out without landing a single blow._ He needed a plan. 

As Valen circled around to dive again, Rue racked his brain for ideas. The Aeon was both faster and stronger than he was; to attack him head-on would be pure folly. But the young man had noticed that speed seemed to be the creature's only strength — that, and flight. Despite its speed, its bulk made it clumsy in the air. Valen's new form was not very maneuverable, and it had only one attack: a diving swoop in the manner of falcons and other birds of prey. If Rue could just get him on the ground... It was risky, but there was a way to do just that. He decided to take the chance. 

With a wordless shriek, the bird-creature dove at the young warrior, talons extended for the killing blow. Instead of leaping to safety as before, Rue braced himself, the Arc Edge held like a shield before him. With a resounding crash, Valen struck. Rue gritted his teeth in pain and determination as he stood his ground, feet dragging across the floor as he pushed back against Valen's charge. His arms ached terribly as he held back the creature's reaching claws. The two combatants sped across the platform, driven along by the momentum of the Aeon's attack. Then, with a surge and a shout, Rue braced his feet against the floor and pushed out with all his strength, shifting his grip on the Arch Edge and letting the weapon spin in his hands, the blade and shaft tangling the legs of the transformed Aeon. Using his body as a pivot, the silver-haired warrior twisted and spun, sending Valen crashing to the floor. 

The Aeon lay stunned from the impact but Rue knew he would not be for long. Panting and shaking from his exertions, the young man approached his downed foe, raising the Arc Edge with trembling arms. With a shout, the blade descended in a beheading arc, razor edge glinting with silver death. Rue sank to his knees. It was done. 

For a while he remained on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Relief flooded through his veins. It was finally over. Valen lay dead before him, the lifeless body of the most powerful Aeon who ever lived now no more than a mountain of dead flesh. A heady euphoria filled him. He could go back, back to Carona, back to his home. _Back to Claire._ He stood, then paused as a tiny frisson of something indefinable passed through him. 

_Something's wrong,_ he thought, looking around uneasily. The air felt heavy with tension. Rue took a tentative step, then stopped again as something from the corner of his eye caught his attention. 

_It can't be..._ Focusing sharply on Valen's headless body, the young man waited tensely, hoping it was just his imagination. _Did it just move?_ he wondered. And there it was, a definite twitch. Rue's heart grew cold with dread. It could only mean one thing. 

_Valen's alive!_

Slowly Rue backed away, watching in sick fascination as the decapitated Aeon staggered to his feet. Valen's body began to melt, dissolving into a shapeless, multi-colored cloud. _What kind of monster is he?_ was the thought running through Rue's mind. _No one could have possibly survived that!_ Mocking laughter surrounded him. 

"Do you see now the futility of going against Me? Give it up, boy! No mere construct like you could ever defeat me. With the Dewprism, I am immortal! With the Dewprism, I am a god!" 

"And without it, you're nothing!" Rue hurled back. "You died once before, Valen. You're not immortal. It happened once, it can happen again." 

Rage poured out from Valen's amorphous form, blasting the young man where he stood. Rue endured it as best he could, mentally erecting barriers against the oppressive weight of the Aeon's mind. He refused to fall to Valen's will, not now after he'd come so far. He could feel the Aeon's questing thought, probing at the depths of his soul — smothering him, crushing him, seeking to dominate him. His sight flickered and began to dim. Rue gave a wordless cry of desperation, and the jewel embedded in the middle of his forehead flared. A corona of light rose up around the silver-haired young man, driving away the encroaching darkness. 

"You would pit your will against Mine?" Valen jeered. Light flared, and Rue shaded his eyes against the brilliance as he watched the Aeon rise high above the platform to float before the Dewprism's glowing form. Dark tendrils extended from the shapeless cloud and reached out to touch the relic. 

"Behold, the Dewprism! Behold, the embodiment of My will!" For a moment time seemed to stand still... and then the world exploded. 

There was an implosion of light and sound, and Rue dropped to his knees, grabbing his head in his hands as he screamed against the mental onslaught threatening to tear him apart. Driven by the Dewprism's power, the force of Valen's will was staggering in its intensity. There was no holding back this assault. Visions at once alien and horrifying slammed into Rue's mind, accompanied by a flurry of thoughts and sensations. He felt he would go mad from the strain. 

Somehow he managed to hold himself together. Forcing his head up despite the pain, Rue staggered to his feet, clutching the Arc Edge like a lifeline. Shuddering with the effort, he took a step. 

"Impressive," Valen said, "but ultimately useless." Suddenly there was a great inrushing of air towards the center of the platform where Valen floated. Rue yelled as his feet were pulled out from under him. Looking up, the young man could see a ball of darkness maybe about a foot in diameter floating just in front of the Aeon's glowing relic. The ball seemed to be sucking everything into its blacker than black depths. The world grew dim, as if even the light was being drawn in as well. 

"What the hell is that!?" Rue exclaimed aloud in shock, but his words were lost in the vacuum. It seemed to be similar to one of the spells he had seen Mint use — Graviton, he believed it was called — but the young man couldn't remember it ever being this strong. The rushing wind sounded loud in his ears and his breath came in short gasps. Sliding along the floor as he was drawn towards the ball of darkness, Rue scrambled vainly for purchase on the smooth stone floor of the platform, even as Valen continued his mental assault. In desperation, the silver-haired youth lifted the Arc Edge high and drove it into the platform with all his strength. The weapon stuck, and Rue gripped tight at his makeshift anchor. 

"A clever ploy, yet one doomed to failure." Valen's voice sound loud in his ears despite the rushing wind. "Even one with your strength could not hold on forever." 

Rue spared a glare for the shapeless cloud above him, but that only served to spur the Aeon's amusement even more. Ages seemed to pass as the young man desperately held on against the vacuuming effect of Valen's spell. Sweat stung his eyes. Rue could feel his muscles burning with the effort of holding on. Then the Aeon intensified his attack, increasing the strength of the dark sphere's power even as the mental assault redoubled. Rue grimaced but held on, knowing that if he let go, all would be lost. 

  


(to be continued...)

  


**Chapter Status: Incomplete**


	2. Book One Before The Storm Chapter 1: D...

**Shadows of An Endless Night**

By C-chan 

  


_Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. Threads of Fate (Dewprism in Japan) and all its characters are the rightful property of Squaresoft and are used in this story without permission. Everything else that wasn't part of the game is all mine. All events portrayed bear no relation to actual incidents; any similarities are entirely coincidental._

  
  


**Book One ~ Before The Storm**

  


**Chapter 1: Dreams**

  
  


Rue woke with a start, a strangled cry lodged in his throat. He sat up on the bed, heart beating a frantic tattoo in his chest. His eyes, still clouded from the dream, stared about him with a sense of panic. His gaze caught and stayed on a reflection of himself in the mirror hanging on the wall opposite the bed. His reflection stared back at him, wide-eyed and sweaty-faced. Rue blinked, his sense of time and place beginning to reassert itself, and gradually relaxed. 

With a sigh, he lay back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. It was a familiar one, having spent many a sleepless night staring at its wooden beams. This time, though, he was unable to lose himself in the patterns on the wood, and his thoughts tumbled chaotic in his head. He couldn't even recall what the dream had been about, yet the feeling of fear remained. A vague kind of fear, like some great shadow glimpsed hiding on the edges of his awareness waiting only the onset of night to descend. 

"A dream, just a dream." In a sudden, swift motion, Rue rolled out of bed and padded across the room, reaching out for the handle of the Arc Edge as it lay against the wall. The weapon felt cool and heavy in his hands, the solid weight of it reassuring. The Arc Edge was as much a part of him as his arms or legs, and Rue felt his tension drain away as he swung it against an imaginary opponent, the heavy blade slicing the air as graceful as any sword. Losing himself in the ageless motions of battle, the silver-haired young man hacked and swung, parried and blocked, moving around the room in a silent, deadly dance. 

For several minutes the only sound in the room was the sound of the battle-dance — of feet sliding across the wooden floor, of the Arc Edge as it clove the morning air, of Rue's panting breaths. Then, with a shout, the heavy blade descended with startling suddenness, stopping within a hair's breadth of shattering the mirror. Once again Rue stared at his reflection, seeing this time a calmness in the other's eyes that hadn't been there moments before. He lowered the blade, drawing as he did so a deep, calming breath. 

"Well, that was impressive. I guess I don't have to worry about you, after all." 

Rue turned to regard the woman who stood just inside the doorway watching him appraisingly. Despite himself, he couldn't prevent his lips from twitching as he took in the woman's... rather eccentric attire. A bunny-style hat, clothes that seemed all frills, and elaborately styled hair that looked like it could walk on its own power hardly seemed like the height of fashion to the bemused young man. Still, Rue had to admit that the wacky getup suited Mel, or Fancy Mel as others called her, among other, less flattering names. 

"How long have you been standing there?" he asked her, returning the Arc Edge to its usual place by the bed. Mel's eyes followed him as he crossed the floor, and Rue shivered as he realized that he was standing there in a thin cotton undershirt, shorts, and little else. It wasn't his sense of modesty acting up — the clothes, though spare, provided cover enough — but that Mel sometimes had a way of looking at you as if she was looking into your deepest, darkest secrets. He trusted Mel, of course, but it _was_ unnerving. Wearing armor didn't really do anything to prevent that, but at least Rue didn't feel as naked with it. Looking around, he saw his armor draped over a chair, and made a beeline for it. 

Mel watched without answering as Rue slowly donned the leather armor, a slight frown on her smooth face. As he finished, she hesitantly asked, "Do you... remember anything?" 

"Remember?" 

"You were found by the edge of the lake three days ago," she explained. "You've been asleep ever since. It was probably just that you were exhausted from what had happened, but sometimes a sleep that long could be a symptom for something worse. I want to be sure." She looked hard into his eyes. "So, how's your memory?" 

His memory? Rue frowned as he thought back to recent events; the dream had pushed everything else out of his mind. Then his eyes widened as the memories of the past few days came crashing down on him. He remembered Valen's floating fortress, of the search for the ultimate relic, the Dewprism. Of his final encounter with Doll Master and learning the truth about himself. Of battling Valen beside Mint. He remembered... 

... _Claire._

"Claire? Is she...?" 

Mel smiled. "Claire's fine. We found her at the same time we found you." 

_Claire._ It seemed impossible; he had waited so long for this day to arrive, and now that it had he didn't know what to do. "Is she awake? Can I go see her?" he asked eagerly. 

"She's awake. In fact, she woke up long before you did. But Rue...," she said gently, "I don't think she's quite ready to see you yet. She needs time — to prepare, to get used to everything. You do understand, don't you?" 

Rue fought down the slight surge of disappointment at Mel's words. He _did_ understand, really — there was a part of him that was just as nervous about finally meeting Claire. But if Claire wanted to wait, then he'd go along with it. "I, I guess I can wait," he said finally. "After waiting three years for this day, a few more hours won't matter." 

"That's good," Mel nodded approvingly. "Well, since you seem alright to me, I guess I'll leave you here. I've got another patient to look after." 

"Oh? Who is it?" 

"It's Mint," Mel replied, looking worried. "She and her sister escaped Valen's fortress at the same time you and Claire did. Maya was okay when we found her — a little shaken up, but otherwise fine — but Mint..." 

"She's not seriously hurt, is she?" Rue asked, becoming worried as well. The last he had seen of the little redheaded princess was when they were trying to escape Valen's crumbling fortress. Thinking back, Rue didn't remember Mint being injured, though they were rather rushed at the time, so he might have missed something. 

"It's not that," Mel assured him. "Her physical injuries are negligible — in fact, you were in a worse state when we found you than she was." 

Rue was confused. "Then what's wrong with her?" 

"I don't know, and that's what worries me." Shaking her head in frustration, Mel continued, "It's her — aura, I guess you could call it. Her magic. It's fluctuating, changing with every minute. I've never seen anything like it." 

"Is that bad?" 

"I'm not sure; it might be. It's taking a toll on her body, of that I'm certain. She hasn't awakened since we found her, or even responded to stimulus. It's almost as if she's in a coma, though I hope it isn't that." 

The room was silent for several moments, and Fancy Mel glanced up to see Rue staring at nothing with a grim expression on his face. She walked over to the distraught young man and laid a reassuring hand on his arm. 

"I might have an idea of what's caused it," she told him. "Maya told me some of what happened in Valen's fortress, and I think it has something to do with when she transferred the power of the Book of Cosmos to her sister. If I'm right about the cause, then I might be able to figure something out." 

The Book of Cosmos. Rue remembered that Aeon relic, the heirloom of the rulers of East Heaven Kingdom, to which Maya and Mint both belonged. As he recalled, it was never far from Princess Maya's hands. So Mint had the power of the Book now. But how was that possible? He thought it had been destroyed back in Maya's tower when Doll Master had forced him to tear the Book apart. Rue searched Mel's face for any sign that she had been less than truthful with him, but found none. Apparently the Book of Cosmos _did_ survive. It was ironic, he thought. In a way, one of Mint's dreams had been fulfilled — that of gaining the power of an Aeon's relic — but that same power was now causing her harm. 

"Is there any hope, do you think?" he asked quietly. 

"There's always hope," Fancy Mel replied. "Remember that. All is not as dark as you think, Rue. This is Mint we're talking about, and no one has a stronger will than she does. She'll pull out of this, just you wait. Mint never gives up." 

Rue nodded. "That's true," he agreed. Mel was right; Mint was never one to give up easily. He smiled, thinking of something someone had once said about her. "She's crazy as hell, but she sure inspires." Rue could only hope that that same tenacious spirit would help Mint through this. He sighed. There really wasn't much he could do to help, except to hope for the best. 

"Well," he said, turning to Mel, "If there's anyone who can help her, it's you. I guess you'll be rather busy, so if you don't mind, I think I'll go look around for a while until Claire's ready to see me. And later, if it's not too much trouble, maybe I could drop by and check on Mint." 

"I'm sure she'd love that," Mel replied warmly. 

Rue nodded, retrieving the Arc Edge and jamming his hat onto his head. He headed for the door, looking back over his shoulder at her. "Until later, then." 

  
  


Mel hated lying to Rue, even if it was the right thing to do. Letting him see how worried she really was would serve no real purpose and might even worsen the present situation. Yes, it was better this way. Rue didn't need to know the truth. 

For the truth was not even Mel knew how things would turn out. No one's ever possessed — truly possessed — the power of an Aeon relic. The situation was unprecedented. Mel feared that Mint's body would not be able to handle the strain of the forces within her, that she would be torn apart by her own magic. Already there'd been several close calls where the little princess' body had seemed on the verge of collapse. It was almost a miracle the girl had survived this long. Mel sighed fretfully. She was afraid that she was fighting a losing battle. She could only treat the symptoms, not the cause of the problem itself. Mint would have to pull through on her own. 

Mel sighed again, moving down the hall towards Mint's room. There was some truth in what she'd told Rue. Mint _was_ strong, and there was a slim possibility that she would make it. But even if she did, there was no telling what other side effects the power of the Book might have on the girl. She almost wished Maya and Mint hadn't done what they did. But they had no other choice at the time, Mel knew, and she herself might have done the same in their position. 

Entering Mint's room, her eyes immediately went to the girl on the bed. The redheaded princess looked a little pale and sweaty, but otherwise one would have thought her to be just sleeping. Mel knew better. She opened her senses, probing beneath the physical. What she found was hardly reassuring. 

The princess was a boiling, tempestuous mass of magical energy. She could almost see the colorful strands of pure magic coiling and writhing in the depths of the young girl's being, pushing against the boundaries of Mint's corporeal self. Worse yet, she could _feel_ the power emanating from the bedridden girl, and Mel knew that it was more power than any human could safely handle. More power than Mel herself possessed. 

Mel turned to the only other person in the room. Princess Maya sat in a chair by the bed, her eyes never leaving her older sister's face. Her face looked drawn and haggard, having spent the night and most of the day before watching over her sister. The younger girl was so engrossed in her vigil that she didn't even notice Mel's arrival. 

"Any changes?" Mel softly asked. 

Without ending her contemplation of her sister's face, Maya absently replied, "She cried out a few times. That's something, isn't it?" 

Mel didn't answer, instead drawing the tired girl to her feet. "Go get some rest, dear," she advised the girl. "You're almost dead on your feet. Come on now, off to bed, or else I'll have two to worry about." 

Maya didn't have the strength to resist her. "But, but I have to stay with her!" she protested weakly. 

"I'll watch her," Mel promised, as she firmly led Maya out the door. "You, on the other hand, need to rest." 

The heir to the throne of East Heaven meekly allowed herself to be led away, but glanced back one last time at the girl on the bed. "It's all my fault," she said despairingly. "If I hadn't come up with that idea, hadn't convinced Mint to let me transfer the power of the Book to her, none of this would have happened!" 

"Maybe; and maybe Valen would have won and we'd all be dead by now." Mel dragged the unresisting girl down the stairs of the inn, pausing once to voice a greeting to the innkeeper, Ms. Cartha, before heading for the hotel next door. She continued, "You did the best you could, given the circumstances. Facing an Aeon is no small thing, and I'm sure your sister was well aware of the risks involved when you used the Book." 

"But Mint is—" 

"Mint is alive, and that's what matters," she interrupted firmly. "All we have to do is make sure she stays that way. That's my job. You've done enough already; you have to take care of yourself now. Rest. I'll wake you if there's any change." They stopped outside the door of the hotel. 

"You promise?" 

"Of course." 

Maya looked up at the older woman with gratitude. "I— Thank you. I'm so grateful for all that you've done — more grateful than I can say." 

Mel smiled at her. "It was my pleasure, dear. I just wish there was more I could do. Now go and rest. I daresay you need it." 

"I will," Maya replied, bowing. "And thank you again." 

  
  


Rue's thoughts were in turmoil as he left Ms. Cartha's inn. He still couldn't believe it. Mint, hurt? It seemed an impossibility. The little princess' personality seemed so larger than life that at times Rue could almost believe she would live forever. He had a hard time accepting that she could be brought low now, after all they'd been through, all the adventures they'd had together. Not Mint. 

Mint. Claire. Two women who'd had such a large impact on his life, though in different ways. One brought back to life by an Aeon relic; the other whose life now hangs in danger because of another Aeon relic. Fate — or the gods — sure had a strange sense of humor. Rue had never been a religious person. How could he, when for most of his known life he'd had no idea who, or what, he was? When the only identity he'd had was a name dredged up from the depths of his flawed memory, and his only sense of self had been what other people had made of him? But he prayed now to whatever gods were listening, prayed with all his heart.

Rue's restless wandering eventually brought him standing before the town's only tavern. Staring at its oaken doors, the young man pondered the idea of going in for a drink or two. While he didn't care much for alcoholic drinks — and it was doubtful that Jargen, the proprietor, would let him have one anyway — a spot or two of something strong wouldn't be remiss right about now. At least it would give him something to do. So deciding, Rue pushed past the tavern door... and entered a scene of mild confusion.

Carona was a port town, the bulk of its population made up mostly of traveling merchants, sailors of docked ships, and other transients. Right now it seemed as if the whole town was packed into the smoky little tavern. Rue stared at the scene with some bemusement.

"Rue!" Looking around for the source of that call, he noticed Annette, the tavern's only waitress, expertly wending her way through the oppressing crush of people towards him. Within moments he was the recipient of a rather enthusiastic hug from the young woman.

"Rue," she said, speaking loudly to be heard over the din, smiling as she stepped back to look him over. "It's good to see that you're all right. You had us worried for the past three days. So is Mint...?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen her yet, but Mel told me she's still unconscious," he replied, and Annette's smiled dimmed a little.

"That's too bad," said the young woman. "I hope she'll be all right."

"Yeah." They lapsed into uncomfortable silence. Rue saw Annette worriedly run her fingers over an exquisitely jeweled brooch she wore, and he suddenly remembered that it was a gift from Mint.

"You seem to be rather busy right now," he said, looking around at the packed and crowded tavern. There was a definite lack of empty tables all around, and elbow room seemed to be at a premium. "I guess I'll come by later."

"No, stay," Annette urged.

Rue shook his head. "You probably have your hands full with this crowd. I wouldn't want to trouble you." As if on cue, a large group of rowdy sailors began calling for the waitress, their inebriated voices rising above the noise. Annette winced.

"Coming!" she called back. Turning back to Rue, she continued, "No, really, it's no trouble. Um, if you don't mind sharing a table, that is."

Spotting a pair of familiar faces, Rue smiled, and replied, "No, I don't mind. I think I'll stay after all."

"Good." Annette nodded approvingly, then winced again as the shouted demands rose in volume. Casting a harried look over her shoulder, she said, "Look, I have to get back to work before Jargen chews me out. Why don't you find a seat while I take care of your order? So what'll you have? And don't worry about the cost; for you, everything's on the house."

"Uh, thanks." Remembering his earlier decision about liquor, he added, "I'll have some beer, I guess, and maybe some of that stew I smell coming from the kitchen."

Annette looked doubtful. "Beer and stew it is, though Jargen'll probably have a lot to say about me serving beer to minors."

"Tell him I'm not really a minor," Rue advised. And was _that_ an understatement! Though he looked only eighteen — nineteen at the most — he was in actuality more than a thousand years old, created long ago by the Aeon Valen. Part of that longevity he could credit to the state of suspended animation he'd been subjected to after the fall of the Aeons, but if Doll Master was any indication, chances are he'll live a few hundred years more at the least. Valen, perfectionist that he was, created his Dolls to last.

"If you say so." Annette still looked dubious, but at that moment all the other neglected customers started to raise a ruckus, complaining about Rue monopolizing the girl. The resulting din was loud enough to draw Jargen out of his kitchen sanctuary. Seeing the state of his tavern, he frowned.

"Annette!" he bellowed, casting a yellowed glare at the girl in question. Annette jumped, glancing nervously at where the burly proprietor stood framed in the kitchen doorway.

"Sorry, gotta go!" she said hurriedly to Rue, jumping back into the crush of people. Rue watched interestedly as the waitress moved through the crowd, somehow avoiding elbows, toes, and the occasional attempted pat on her behind. Shaking his head, he too made his way through the sea of people towards the pair he had spotted earlier. His journey was a lot less smoother than the girl's had been, though no one tried to pat _his_ behind, but he did get jostled up quite a bit by the time he reached his destination.

"Quite a crowd, eh?" Duke observed, raising a tankard at him in salute. At the other end of the table, Belle snorted.

"Bunch of rabble, more like," she muttered, nursing her own cup. She glanced around the humid little room with distaste. "Don't they have anything better to do?"

"In Carona?" Rue asked wryly.

"You have a point," Belle conceded.

"Actually, I'm rather surprised to find you here," Rue told them. "Are sure you can afford it?" As far as he knew, Belle and Duke were _always_ strapped for cash. Rumor had it that the tab on the ill-fortuned pair of treasure hunters was almost enough to pay a king's ransom.

Belle looked insulted. "Of course we can afford it!" she snapped.

"Actually, we had some good luck recently," Duke confided. "While you and Mint were fighting Valen, I've been wandering around the fortress and I found some stuff that turned out to be pretty valuable. Right now, we're loaded!" he declared with satisfaction. His smug smile turned into a pained grimace was Belle reached over and knocked him on the head.

"Idiot!" Belle shook her head in disgust. "He was _supposed_ to wait by the Pinto and guard Prima Doll, but he just _had_ to try and follow Mint into the fortress. He got lost in the first few minutes."

"Milady!" Duke protested. "It wasn't like that at all!"

"Yes, it was. I talked to Prima."

"Well, it certainly was a lucky break," Rue interjected before Belle could get any more worked up.

"Lucky for him, you mean," she said, directing a scathing look at Duke. "That's the only reason why I haven't killed him yet."

Duke rubbed his head sheepishly. "Milady..."

"Well, enough about that," Belle declared, turning to Rue. "I heard that the brat's still out cold. What's up with that?"

"Uh, you mean Mint?" he asked. Belle nodded. "Well, I don't know much, just that it has something to do with her magic."

Mint's archrival smirked knowingly. "She got greedy, didn't she? Bit off more than she could chew. She got what she deserved, the brat."

"Milady!" Duke exclaimed, appalled at his boss' seeming callousness, but Belle waved his objections aside.

"Oh, don't looked so shocked," she admonished. "Something like this wouldn't kill her. We have a score to settle, the brat and I. I'm gonna pay her back for what she did to me a year ago. The only time she's gonna is when I kill her." Belle's eyes were shining at the thought of incipient vengeance.

"Milady..." Duke stared at his partner in awe. Then his expression firmed. "Right!" he exclaimed, turning to Rue. "Listen up, man. Next time we meet I'll beat you for sure. I can't let my archrival get too far ahead, so I'm gonna train hard. So prepare yourself, too. Man, my heart's burning just thinking of our next match!"

Rue stared at the pair of treasure hunters bemusedly. Those two never gave up, even after all the times they've been knocked down. He had to admire their persistence. Once again Rue wondered what it was that Mint had done to Belle a year ago. It must have been really bad for the treasure hunter to still be angry over it after all this time. Not that he was going to try asking again; the last time he had done that Belle had worked herself up into such a state that she had been incoherent for hours, and he didn't even get a straight answer out of her. As for Duke, his self-proclaimed archrival, Rue didn't know what to think. Rod had certainly had a great deal of influence on the man, what with Duke's recent talks about 'heart', but it _was_ something of an improvement over the treasure hunter's former self. Not that much of an improvement, though. Rod was a great guy and all, and Rue had a great deal of respect for him, but he could be a bit strange sometimes.

Lost in their respective fantasies, the pair of treasure hunters paid no notice as Annette approached the table carrying a loaded tray. Rue glanced up at the waitress as she drew closer, glad for the distraction. Having two people stare ecstatically at nothing for several minutes was downright creepy.

"Oh, there you are!" Annette said when she saw him. "Sorry it took me so long; this place has me running ragged. If only Jargen would stop his penny-pinching and hire another waitress..." Shaking her head at her employer's miserly ways, Annette placed a steaming bowl and a medium-sized mug before the silver-haired young man.

Rue stared at the bowl in front of him and his mouth watered. Stew. He couldn't tell whether it was made from monster meat or just the regular kind, but that didn't matter to him. Food was food, and in any case it smelled delicious. The mug held beer.

"Jargen didn't give you any trouble over the beer, did he?" he asked her.

"Not a bit," the girl replied. "I told him it was for you, but he didn't even kick up a fuss like he usually does. Jargen's always been strict about selling liquor to minors so I asked him about it, and he said that anyone brave enough to go toe to toe with whatever was in that floating fortress was considered a man in his book."

Rue flushed with with embarrassment, yet was strangely pleased with the compliment. Not many knew what had really happened in Valen's fortress — in fact, not many even knew what an Aeon was — but rumors did spread, and the people of Carona knew that it was Rue and Mint who were responsible for bringing down the ominous-looking fortress. Rue just hoped that it was indirectly their fault that the fortress was there in the first place. To cover up his embarrassment, he asked, "How much?"

"I told you — it's on the house," answered the waitress. "Think of it as a gift." Seeing Belle and Duke, she continued, "And what will your friends be having?"

"Uh, I don't know." Staring at the two still figures disconcertedly, Rue wondered if he should try to break them out of their reverie or just order for them. Luckily, he didn't have to do either as the mismatched pair of treasure hunters came out of their fugue at Annette's question.

"More beer," Duke answered quickly, pushing his empty tankard towards the girl. Belle nodded in agreement.

"The same, And stew for us both; I'm getting hungry."

"But Milady, aren't you supposed to be on a diet? You've been getting a bit broad at the—"

"Shut up!"

Rue winced in sympathy as Duke's face met the hardwood surface of the table. That _had_ to hurt. Duke evidently agreed as he was clutching at his nose with an expression of extreme agony.

"Owb! Wab you do dat bor?"

"Because you're a moron!" Belle retorted. To Rue, she said, "Ignore him, he doesn't know what he's talking about. You know, I still don't know what _really_ happened inside that fortress. I talked to Prima and Mr. Moron here, but they don't know the full story. You're the only person — other than the brat, and she doesn't count — that I know who's ever met a real Aeon. So what was Valen like? How did you defeat him?" Suddenly realizing that recent events might be a touchy subject for the the silver-haired youth, Belle reddened. "If... if you don't mind, that is," she hastened to add.

Rue considered the question carefully. At length, he replied, "I guess I don't mind. I'll probably have to talk about it someday; I might as well start now."

  


(to be continued...)

  


**Chapter Status: Incomplete**


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